Tears Upon Your Face
by the evil witch queen
Summary: Darkness is growing again in ME. Set in the fourth age, two Elves will have to try to save ME, or perish in the attempt. But Melkor is returning....
1. Prologue the Kinslaying

Tears Upon Your Face

By The Evil Witch Queen & Edheldae Finarphir

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A/N - rating is for violence, language *Evil Witch Queen glares at Edheldae who replies* (don't $£!&**%$(%$$^**** look at me!) *evil witch queen shakes head * Anyway, to get on with what we are SUPPOST to be saying: this is slightly darker than the Evil Witch Queen's other fics, sorry about that. If you are squeamish, or looking for something cheerful and fluffy, then go and read the others. The time frame is also slightly confusing. The prologue is a flashback, and the character in the prologue called Nellas is the grandmother of the character called Nellas in the rest of the story. Sorry again for all the confusion (stop saying sorry!!!). Anyway, please read and review! (lest the swift wrath of the Noldor be visited upon you!!!!!!) Shut up Edheldae!

A/A/N - This is actually a sequel to LotR but it has a lot of Silmarillion based content and doesn't really deal with the LotR characters.

"Ai" cried the Telarian elf as he fell from the rocks, an arrow buried deeply in the back of his neck. He fell onto the muddy ground, and lay twitching, frothy blood coming from his mouth. He reached out with one hand, batting at the air, as if searching for something intangible. Then his hand fell, and he lay, his breathing laboured. But the dying elf was not the only person behind the rocks. Only a few inches away from him (although he could not see her, his eyes had already gone dull), was a small Noldorin girl of no more than six yen. When the elf had fallen, she had not cried out, although if she had, it would have been drowned out by the sounds of the battle around her. Instead her eyes were wide, and she now crouched fearfully, gazing oddly at the elf. Death was not something she knew about; it did not happen in Valinor; at least until now. But now the king was dead.

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"Feanor!" Finrod called

Feanor turned to look at the approaching trio and cursed.

"Agarwaen Angband!" he spat. "I told you to take no prisoners, Maedhros. Why have you disobeyed me?"

"Atar, she is with child. I could not kill that which lives inside her."

"What do you want to do with her then? We cannot leave her here. None can be allowed to alert the Valar to what is going on. They would be furious! I would kill them if it were possible; they are not so different to Morgoth.

The pregnant elf stared. How could he say such a thing!? The Valar were good and kind to the elves. How could this Noldo talk about the Valar like the evil that roamed in Middle Earth? A horrible thought struck her then: what if Feanor discovered who the father of her child really was?

"Who are you anyway?" Feanor's voice cut the Telari's musings short. 

"I…I am Maranwe Camcacil. " All of a sudden, she gasped, horrified and pushed past Feanor to drop to her knees beside a dead Telarian elf. 

"Melendur! No! Melendur!"

"Is that your husband?" asked Feanor coldly. After a moment's consideration, Maranwe nodded. He wasn't really her husband, he was her brother. But Feanor must not find that out. He must never know who the father was.

"Maedhros! Bring her!"

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The Noldor and the Telari fought by the raging sea, dying the foam red with blood. All this, the girl had seen, and the images would stay with her. The elf on the ground drew a shuddering breath, coughed and then lay still. His eyes dim, his silver hair blowing faintly in the wind. His outstretched hand was close to the girl, and she reached out and touched it tentatively; it was cold. She shrank back, huddled against the stones, as far away from the dead elf as she could get. The cold wind blew about her golden hair. She was tired, lonely, and afraid; her only companion was the elf whose fea had clearly departed. Pulling her cloak around her, she listened as the sounds of battle faded away, to be replaced by the cries of the dying, the shouts of the victors. Suddenly, from a few feet away, a voice laced with panic, cut through the air. 

"Nellas! Yelde nin!" 

A tall, raven haired, Noldorian woman scrambled over the rocks and saw her child.

"Nellas! Are you alright?" she whispered, stroking the child's hair. The girl's lip trembled, but she did not cry. The woman picked her up and carried her away over the beach; through the carnage the Noldor had reaped. The girl's eyes seemed vacant; she had seen too much.

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So Maranwe had no time to mourn her loss. Feanor's warriors boarded the Telarian ships, while Finarfin's people waited for their leader's orders. 

"Finrod! You have been most useful, my thanks. Let us now go reclaim the Silmarilli from the darkness! Namarie Finrod." With that, Feanor boarded the Telarian flagship, and the fleet moved off, leaving Finarfin's people staring after them.

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At the end of the beach, a large group of Noldor were congregating, staring at the ships that were disappearing off into the distance. The elves at the front of the group were two of Finarfin's children, Finrod and Artanis. Finrod was shaking his head sorrowfully. As the woman approached, she could hear that Artanis was being slightly more vocal.

"Curse him! Curse him!" her naked sword was still in her hand, stained with Noldorin blood. "Curse us all for our folly!" she looked as if she might cry. She sheathed her sword. 

"What now toron nin?" she asked, turning to Finrod. He had been staring at the approaching woman and child, but he now turned abruptly. He looked further up the coast and sighed.

"There is one way we could cross…"

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Maranwe stared miserably out to sea. She was being held captive in her own ship. Valinor had long since disappeared from view, and now there was only the gentle rocking of the waves, and the faint song of the sea to soothe her soul. Feanor had only given her enough food as would keep her alive, and at a slim chance support a baby as well. The Noldor probably wanted her alive, but not the child. He needed her for some of the maintenance of the ships. Maranwe began to sing quietly, in tune with the gulls and following the beat of the waves. 

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It was bitterly cold, and the grinding of the ice sounded like the cries of tormented demons. Those who dared to stop and look back would see the scattered Noldorin corpses; each already covered with a layer of frost. The raven haired Noldorin woman, Celeblas, was carrying her daughter, Nellas. Nellas was shivering violently beneath her light cloak, and even her mother's tired arms did little to ease the chill. After a while, Celeblas became tired, and Nellas walked. Perhaps it was fate, perhaps just luck, but only a minute after Nellas had begun to walk, a great rending sound filled the air; people were shouting, and a friendly elf grabbed Nellas out of the way quickly, as a huge chunk of ice fell from the hulking cliffs. It missed Nellas and several other elves by a hair's breadth. Celeblas, however, was not so lucky. She was half trapped under the ice block. 

"Amil!" Screamed Nellas, scrambling free from the elf holding her back. 

"Nellas." Celeblas whispered. Nellas' eyes filled with tears.

"Amil." Shakily, Celeblas held out her hand. There was something clasped in it. Nellas took her hand. 

"Namarie yelde nin" whispered Celeblas "my spirit fades". Her eyes went dim. 

"Lau." Whispered Nellas, as she sank down, her face pressed against the cold ice. She could hear people speaking, but no one seemed to want to get near the strange golden hair child. Celeblas' hand was still pressed against hers, and realising this, Nellas cried properly, the tears freezing on her cheeks. 

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The journey at sea seemed to last an eternity. By the time they reached Middle-Earth, Maranwe was nearly ready to give birth. When they landed, a Noldorian woman came to her to help her off the ship. Maranwe stared as she came on deck; she hadn't been to Middle-Earth for a long time. When she had last left here, her beloved Thorongil had still been alive and they had just come of age together. Blinking back tears, Maranwe followed the Noldo away from the ships. Her child moved inside her, sensing her distress and giving what comfort it could. Putting her hands to her swollen belly, Maranwe allowed her unborn child to calm her. This would be no ordinary elf child.

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Nellas sensed someone come up behind her. 

"Come," said a voice, "the cold will take you if you stay here."

Nellas raised her head and saw that Finrod was kneeling on the ice beside her.

"I'm sorry." He said as he reached out and closed Celeblas' eyes, "you must come."

Nellas looked up into his blue eyes, he was golden haired like her. For some reason she trusted him. Slowly she prised her hand away from Celeblas' and as she did, a golden medallion fell to the ice. Finrod picked it up and gazed at it with shock. The picture on it was a crown of flowers upheld and devoured by two snakes. Artanis, who had come up to stand behind him, spoke.

"That's your sign…"

Finrod signalled for her to be quiet. Then he spoke to Nellas,

"Do you know where your Amil got this?"

Nellas thought for a minute, trying not to look at Celeblas' body, then spoke,

"She said it belonged to Atar nin."

Mutters came from the crowd. Finrod smiled warmly at the girl. She was the result of his own foolishness, but none the less, he could not refuse to aid her now. He stood and picked her up.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked.

Nellas nodded and Finrod walked off into the snow, the Noldor following.

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Maranwe lay to one side of the Noldor's camp. They had burned the ships earlier. She hoped that the Valar visited their wrath upon these betrayers and kinslayers; they should pay for what they had done. Night fell and the stars came out, shining brightly in the darkness. Taking comfort in their light, Maranwe began thinking how she might escape. She had heard that Elwe had been found and that he had founded a kingdom. More than that, he had wedded a Maia. Surely he would not turn her away.

Later that evening, with her plan complete, Maranwe began to put it into action. She was free to move about the camp so long as she was guarded. Carefully, she got up and headed for where the horses had been tethered. As she suspected, a guard followed her. When she got to the area, she pretended to stumble and leant on one of the horses for support.

"You shouldn't walk about." Her guard told her, "You're too weak from carrying the child."

"Why do you hold me hear?" Maranwe asked, teary eyed, "I have done you no harm."

"Heru nin wishes for you to buy us safe passage from those Telari that remain. He can't have them getting in the way of his vengeance."

Maranwe gave a small moan. So that was the Noldor's plan. Gathering her strength, Maranwe prepared for the final part of her plan. She quickly drew the dagger from her boot (thankfully, the Noldor had not searched her for weapons) cut the tether of the horse she was leaning on, leap on its back and before the startled guard could do anything, she was off.

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Artanis sat on her pack, to protect herself from the chill of the Helcaraxe. Small crystals of ice had formed in her golden hair, and in the rays of the setting sun, it shone like gold incrusted with diamonds. Artanis' gaze was fixed on the face of the small girl her brother had saved from the ice. The girl lay sleeping now, wrapped in Finrod's fur cloak, a frown crossing her small face; a frown oddly like her brother's. In fact, she was intrigued by the uncanny resemblance between the child and her brother, and the medallion that the sleeping girl clutched in her hand furthered her assumptions: the emblem of the house of Finarfin. Artanis didn't want to think that this could be her brother's child. He was not that sort of elf. But the niggling doubt remained. Finally, she turned to her brother, who was gazing off into the darkness, towards Middle-Earth.

"Toron, might I ask you something?" her voice shook slightly, something unusual for her, but she dreaded what she might hear. Finrod turned to her, looking rather guilty.

"What?"

"Why do you have such an interest in that child?"

Finrod shrugged uneasily.

"Her mother was slain, what else could I do?"

"But Finrod, many other children have lost their parents and you have done nothing. And besides, this child bears too great a resemblance to you." 

"Do you mean to suggest that you think that _I_ am the atar of this child!?"

"No, no, I only mean to say that she bears great resemblance to you, and, well…people might talk."

Finrod paused, then decided to tell the truth.

"If they…if you, thought she was my child, then that assumption would be correct."

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Barely conscious, Maranwe rode into Doriath. She hadn't eaten for nearly three days and had barely slept either. Attendants rushed to her side as her horse came to a halt in the courtyard. Few recognised her, but it was obvious just how pregnant she was. The birth was three days away at most.

"Please," Maranwe gasped, "Please, I must see Elwe. I must speak with him."

"You're in no fit state to talk to anyone right now." One of the attendants said disapprovingly. 

"I must see Elwe." Maranwe insisted, "Please, this is extremely important."

"Very well. This way."

A few minutes later, Maranwe stood before Elwe and his wife.

"Maranwe!" the Sindarin king greeted his former subject with surprise, "What in Arda are you doing here of all places. I thought you had gone onto to Valinor with Thorongil."

"Thorongil is dead hir nin. He died on the crossing to Valinor. Thankfully for him, he did not have to witness the circumstances that brought me here. It was the Noldor hir nin, they were coming back and forced me to come."

Elwe placed a hand on the obviously distressed elf's shoulder.

"Elwe please," Maranwe said, tears streaming down her face, "I need your help. Feanor must never find out who fathered this child! He thinks it was Melendur."

"What do you mean?" Elwe asked.

"He's gone mad! He's started a rebellion against the Valar because of Melkor."

All of a sudden, Maranwe passed out. Melian ran to help. She turned to Elwe and said,

"The baby's coming."

"But who is the father?" Elwe asked.

Translation:

Ai - Ah

Agarwaen Angband - lit. blood stained Angband* 

Yelde nin - my daughter

Namarie - Farewell

Toron nin - my brother

Amil - Mother

Lau - No

Atar nin - my father

Heru nin - my lord

Hir nin - my lord

*Angband is probably the closest thing elves had to hell.

A/N - hehehe, that was kinda long, wasn't it? Ah well, R&R! Just in case you hadn't noticed, this fic is co-authored. And sorry about the confusing a/n at the top, Edheldae wrote it. ( Ai ye! Naur dan lye!) Shut up Edheldae!


	2. First Day of School

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Disclaimer: hehe, forgot to put this in the first chapter. Well, standard disclaimer, neither of us owns LotR or the canon characters and we are making no money from this story. Any characters that you have never heard of before will belong to one of us; some of those are still under debate as to whom owns them.

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Important A/N - evil witch queen here so this note should be slightly less garbled. The Nellas in this chapter and in the rest of the story is the granddaughter of the Nellas in the prologue. Silmarwen is great-granddaughter of Maranwe from the prologue. The random bit at the beginning of this chapter is not actually part of the story; it's a prophecy probably to be elaborated on later.

I suppose a little background wouldn't go amiss would it? This is several thousand years after the War of the Ring. Elessar's line has been ruling for all this time. Minas Tirith has expanded out onto Pelannor fields up to Ramas Echor. The school is just at the edge of the Minas Tirith new town on a large piece of private land donated by Queen Arwen for a school for girls.

Chapter One - First Day at School.

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I serke Noldoreva na sirith,

I Valochil na dolen,

Ar i rambar ardaeva gaya mornie na.

Hi mornie lantuva i orer Edaneva,

Ar hin Edan meruva edri Iannon.

Agarwaen kambar nuva i met

An man, an raica, i met na unole, enga Ainulindalesse.

Nayes nole hin atta nfirnuvo

Ar tur tuluva mine er.

Melkor tuluva ensinome, ire i agar Noldo ar Valaeva na ur annonesse.

The blood of the Noldor is flowing,

The Valar's heir is hidden,

Outside the walls of the earth is dread darkness.

To this darkness shall fall the minds of men,

And these men will wish to open the Gate to the Void.

Blood stained hands will be the end,

For good, for evil, the end is not known, save in the songs of the Ainur.

It is known these two will be dead,

And power will come to one alone.

Melkor will come again to this place, when the blood of the Noldo and Vala is hot on the gate.

Silmarwen stared dejectedly out the window, leaning her head in her hand. She had been attending 'Queen Arwen's Ladies College' for two months now and she hated it. She hated the old stone buildings with their fancy architecture. She hated the cold rooms and the way everything seemed so perfect. She hated the way she was treated like something unpleasant one finds under a rock. She hated the teachers with their bias towards the other girls. She hated the uniform; with its tight ankle length black skirts and whited high-necked shirts. She hated everything about the place. She hardly had any friends; nobody liked elves these days. Speaking elvish was forbidden and she had to keep the tips of her ears covered by her silver hair lest they offend someone. (The hobbits who attended the school had no such restrictions) Silmarwen's musings were cut short by the arrival of the teacher, bringing the class to their feet. Miss Andwise entered followed by a nervous looking girl. Silmarwen stared; this was no human girl. Although her hair covered her ears, it was obvious from her aura. She was an elf.

"Good morning girls." The teacher said.

"Good morning Miss Andwise."

Silmarwen ground her teeth. They were in their final year at school but Miss Andwise still insisted on treating them like children.

"Sit down."

The class sat.

"Girls, this is Nellas Elanesse. Nellas, would you go and sit over there by Selmawin.

"Silmarwen." Silmarwen growled under her breath.

Miss Andwise didn't hear, but Nellas evidently did, for she cocked her head slightly at Silmarwen before sitting down. She had large, stormy grey eyes and her long golden hair that fell to just above her waist hung loose. She looked slightly angry about something, but Silmarwen had no idea why.

Halfway through the lesson, Miss Andwise left to talk with another teacher. The class, which had previously been silent, suddenly erupted into whispers that rippled across the class. Nellas sighed in annoyance, glancing around. Even if the humans couldn't make out what someone was whispering on the other side of the classroom, she could. Quite a few of the whispers were about her, others were about Silmarwen. After one last look around the classroom, Nellas went back to her work. A lock of her golden hair fell across her face and she tucked it behind her ear impatiently. The next thing she knew, Silmarwen had dropped her quill and slapped the hair back in front of her ear. Nellas stared angrily as Silmarwen gave a hurried explanation.

"Cheblye lher untupant." She hissed in Sindarin, "It's the rules."

"Silmarwen"

Silmarwen froze, then slowly looked past Nellas to where Miss Andwise stood in the door, eyes flaming and nostrils flared.

"How dare you?" she asked angrily. "How dare you speak that vile tongue in this classroom?"

Silmarwen swallowed in a dry throat, she hadn't even realised that she had slipped into her native language.

"That's not all she did miss." Said a voice from the back of the classroom.

All heads turned in the direction of a snooty girl called Windfola. She came from Rohan and because of her ancestry (which she claimed could be traced back to King Theoden of the Third Age) she though she was better than everyone else was.

"What do you mean?" asked Miss Andwise curtly.

"She slapped Nellas without any provocation."

Miss Andwise turned back to Silmarwen.

"Is this true?"

"It most certainly is not!" Silmarwen said, both horrified and angry.

"Yes, she did." Windfola piped up again, "We all saw her. Didn't we girls?"

She addressed the last part to her gaggle of friends. They all nodded. Miss Andwise turned to Silmarwen.

"I'll deal with you after class."

Silmarwen turned and glared at Windfola who smirked back. The two had been enemies since Silmarwen's first day.

The lesson dragged on, as Geography always did. Finally, it ended. Silmarwen picked up her books and shoved them roughly into her bag. Nellas was about to leave when Miss Andwise called to her and asked her to stay as well. She then turned on Silmarwen.

"Silmarwen, what in Middle-earth did you think gave you reason to behave like that?" the teacher said, her voice dangerously low, "Not only did you break the rule about not speaking elvish, you struck a fellow student! Explain yourself."

"I told you I didn't hit her!"

"That's not what everyone else thinks."

Silmarwen stared for a moment before her gaze flicked to Nellas, who was just standing there, a look of disconcern on her face. Silmarwen started to say something, her eyes still on Nellas, but she was cut short.

"I see you have no adequate explanation for your behaviour and I shall punish you as such. As the king's ward I would have expected better of you and I shall be writing to him about this tonight."

Silmarwen's gaze was back on Miss Andwise as soon as the words left the teacher's mouth, There was unmistakable fear in the young elf's eyes. Miss Andwise continued.

"I will expect better of you in future. Is that understood?"

Silmarwen nodded bitterly as Miss Andwise turned to Nellas.

"Nellas." She said in a much kinder tone, "There are a few things you need to know. First, and probably most important, is that speaking elvish here is forbidden. The next, that you must always keep the tips of your ears covered as you're an elf and last, you must wear your hair up. Oh, and you'll be sharing a dorm with Silmarwen."

Nellas nodded subduedly but there was a small frown creasing her face. Miss Andwise dismissed them and they left together.

Once they were in Silmarwen's room and had dropped their bags, the silver haired elf rounded on the newcomer.

"Why didn't you tell her I didn't hit you?" she asked in elvish, sounding hurt.

"Why should I have told her? It wasn't my concern! I'm a Noldo, not some altruistic Vanya!" Nellas retorted. She paused before adding sarcastically, "By the way, I though you weren't supposed to speak the Eldarin tongue. You should be careful, they might make you write lines or something." Then Nellas laughed, "However, seeing as you're the kings ward, it's nice to see that you're not just some fine woman of the king doing whatever the humans say …well, at least as far as I know!"

Silmarwen's expression turned dangerously blank before a snarl crossed her face.

"What?" she said quietly, "lye nishou!"

Nellas stopped smiling and there was a deadly edge in her voice.

"I would watch your tongue, atandil."

Silmarwen was forcefully reminded of a picture of Feanor she had seen in a history book in the library of Minas Tirith.

"Don't you dare call me that, gnome." She said, her voice as cold as the Helcaraxe.

"Tye manuva" Nellas shrieked, stung by the insult.

She lunged at Silmarwen who ducked back quickly, avoiding the blow and trying to land one of her own. Her fist went towards Nellas chest, but the other elf seemed to disappear. Silmarwen stared in surprise at the space where Nellas had been, then suddenly, she heard a laugh and felt a sharp pain blow to the back of her head. She staggered forward before turning, quicker this time, and, still turning, hooked her foot around Nellas' knees. Before the Noldo could react, she came crashing down. Nellas stared up at Silmarwen in shocked surprise. Her hand scrabbled for the bag she had landed beside. All of a sudden, Silmarwen was facing a knifepoint as Nellas leapt to her feet. The blade gleamed slightly in the dull light, and although it was small, it was plainly sharp.

"What are you going to do?" Silmarwen asked quietly, her eyes locked on Nellas', "Kill an unarmed elf? It would be just like a Noldo."

"And what do you mean by that?" Nellas asked, her voice deadly, "This weapon is for self defence only."

"Self-defence!" Silmarwen shrieked with bitter laughter, "Self-defence! Was Aqualonde merely self-defence? No Noldo uses weapons for self-defence. All the Noldor are kinslayers!"

"I am no kinslayer." Whispered Nellas, "But if you continue to annoy me, I soon shall be!" her voice grew louder with the last few word.

"Annoy you?" Silmarwen spat. "That merely confirms my suspicions. Noldor are as bad as yrch!"

She seemed to have hit a nerve. Nellas blanched, and then leapt at Silmarwen with an unearthly cry of fury. She struck blindly at Silmarwen face and the Telari felt a rush of air as the knife missed her by a hair's breadth. Nellas turned for another strike but was surprised as the sound of ringing metal filled the air. Silmarwen had a blade in hand and had block Nellas' blow. And so, the deadly dance began. Circling, feinting, trading blows, the opponents faced each other, glaring. As they both grew angrier, they began almost to retreat into the shadow realm. Power crackled across their skin like molten silver and their hair caught in a non-existent breeze. Both were so distracted by blows, dodges and feints that they failed to notice the door creak slowly open - Windfola coming in to gloat. They only turned when they heard her scream, but by then, the human was out the door and running, terrified, down the corridor. Metal rang as the blades clashed again and the dangerous dance sped up. Silmarwen swung around, but a line of pain seared across her cheek. The pair froze. Silmarwen stared at Nellas' bloody knife and put a hand to her injured cheek, where she felt blood beginning to ooze from the cut. She glared at the Noldo and Nellas smirked slightly before lunging once more. They parried again only to break apart, Silmarwen with a nick on her arm. This continued for a while until Nellas, who had grown slightly overconfident, lunged again. Silmarwen dodged and kicked out and finally managed to disarm her opponent, sheathing her own knife in the same instant. Nellas stared; there was no trace of Silmarwen's knife anywhere. Her expression changed to an evil glare and she adapted an offensive stance.

"Don't think you'll win now!" she laughed, "I can still fight."

"But how well?" Silmarwen taunted, "I've never lost a fight."

Nellas did not answer, instead, her fist flew out towards Silmarwen's face and she felt it connect. Silmarwen reeled back, grabbing at Nellas' retreating wrist to save her from falling, but she pulled them both to the floor. They lay there grappling for a while, but Nellas had never learnt to use size or weight to her advantage. Silmarwen however, had leant and soon managed to get on top of Nellas and pin her wrists to the floor. Just then, the door burst open. The Maths teacher and deputy head, Miss Denmir stormed into the room, followed by Miss Andwise and a terrified Windfola.

"Silmarwen!" Miss Denmir bellowed, striding over and hauling her off Nellas and to her feet, "What in Middle-earth do you thing you are doing!?!"

Before Silmarwen could answer, Windfola gave a small shriek and pointed at Nellas, "Look at the marks on Nellas' wrists Miss Denmir!"

As Miss Andwise hurried to help the Noldo up, Silmarwen ground her teeth. Dried blood covered her skin and clothes around the cuts Nellas had given her and a livid bruise was rising on her cheek where Nellas had punched her but the teachers were pointedly not noticing.

"Just look at this Maebh." Miss Andwise breathed, indicating to the marks on Nellas arms from when they fell and where Silmarwen had held her.

"Silmarwen, why did you do this?" Miss Denmir asked in a quiet, dangerous voice.

"She attacked me-" Silmarwen started but Nellas interrupted.

"I attacked you?" she added just the right edge of hysteria to her voice as she turned to Miss Denmir, "She insulted me then attacked me without any provocation!"

"Silmarwen." Miss Denmir growled, glaring at the silver haired elf.

"I didn't!" Silmarwen gasped, slightly panicky, "Miss Denmir, I swear I never-"

"Silmarwen!" Miss Denmir shouted, effectively silencing her, before continuing in a more normal tone, "Seeing as Miss Andwise has already asked me to send for Mith, which I have done, he will be informed of this latest development upon his arrival. Of this you may be certain."

"Miss Denmir please!" Silmarwen begged. The Telari was a whole inch taller than Miss Denmir was, but she still cowered before the old teacher. Miss Denmir was a tall, gaunt, imposing woman to be sure, but to see Silmarwen afraid of what she was saying truly surprised Nellas.

"Come Menolly." Miss Denmir said to Miss Andwise, "We must see to the other students."

She then turned on her heel and strode out the room, Miss Andwise and Windfola following quickly. When the door shut, Silmarwen turned to Nellas.

"Why?" She asked, tears filling her eyes, "Why did you say that? Why did you lie to them?" Before Nellas could answer, Silmarwen turned and fled.

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A/N - And for those of you who've read my 'Little Legolas Fic' we haven't used the ageing system from that, we yen thing. Nellas and Silmarwen are eighteen yen. As to the term gnome, if you don't know, we think that it's an insulting term for the Noldor used by the Sindar in the first age.

Translations:

Cheblye lher untupant - Keep your ears covered

Lye nishou - lit. you female dog

Atandil - friend of men

Tye mancuva - I will kill you.

Replies to Reviews: (once more, evil witch queen here)

Lady Greenleaf: Well, yes it is a different take on Finrod. However, I can't really claim anything on that, it was Edheldae's idea. I won't tell you who's the father of Maranwe's child just yet. It will be revealed later. Well, thanks and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

Daw the minstrel: We aim to please. I have to admit Edheldae provided most of the First Age knowledge. Well, hope you like this chapter!


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